


the sun is falling

by ellie_cat



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: :), Alchemist!Xion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Demigod!Seoho, Half-Fae!RAVN, Humor, Intense Deja-Vu & Confusion - the Fanfic, I’m Honestly Making This Up As I Go, Mage!Keonhee, Minor Character Death(s), Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, Reincarnation, Seer!RAVN, Shifter!Leedo, This gets pretty dark, Time Loop, vampire!hwanwoong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2020-06-24 14:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellie_cat/pseuds/ellie_cat
Summary: based on the twilight mv and afantheoryby lu & rou!others that visit might call the estate a lovely place, perfect for that fairytale vacation or honeymoon they’d always dreamed of- where they would see that, hwanwoong could only see the manor as a prison.a vampire, seer, demigod, shifter, mage, and alchemist imprisoned by the gods can be a family, right?





	1. intro : time

**Author's Note:**

> notes : 
> 
> \- crossposted on oneus amino
> 
> \- Leedo is Geonhak, RAVN is Youngjo, & Xion is Dongju

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loop 1!,¿¡”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all ever just despacito for five hours and suddenly it’s five in the morning?
> 
> yeet haw me into the sun please. 🤠 
> 
> also this is my first fic in like, over a year so please be nice to me :,)
> 
> this first chapter is written to be confusing af, everything will be revealed in due time, my pretties.

"Hwanwoong," Seoho greets, not looking up from the plate of assorted breakfast foods in front of him.

"Seoho," Hwanwoong says back, coming to sit across from the ravenous demigod at the ornate dining table.

"Want any?" Seoho says, laughing as he does. Hwanwoong grimaces to hide his automatic smile.

"You alway-," he stops as he realizes what he was about to say, 'You always say that' and realizes he doesn't actually have any memories of Seoho actually saying it, just a weird sense of deja-vu. "You always make stupid jokes like that." he settles for, and Seoho just laughs more, shrugs, and then goes back to his food. Geonhak comes in then, and the wolf's scent draws Hwanwoong out of his thoughts.

"Really? All meat? Would it kill you to eat a vegetable?" Hwanwoong finds himself saying. Geonhak pauses in his stride towards the table, looks down at his plate, them back at him, and then out to the window with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Perhaps," Geonhak says, petulantly, and Hwanwoong sighs. "I am a wolf, after all."

"Nice to see all of you up already," Youngjo says, walking into the room like he owns the place- which, none of them do, so. Geonhak grimaces exasperatedly as he sits down next to Seoho, who doesn't so much as greet him as he continues on with his morning feast.

"You're usually up earlier," Hwanwoong mentions, sliding his gaze from Youngjo back to Seoho.

"I had a late night," Youngjo admits, "Visions never wait," shrugging as he disappears through the kitchen door. Hwanwoong can still hear him shuffling around as he grabs and prepares whatever he wants for himself.

"Nice to see you join us, Hwanwoong," Keonhee greets as he enters the room, eyeing Seoho still in the midst of devouring his plate with mild disgust, which shifts into actual disgust when he catches sight of Geonhak. "My Sun! What were you, raised with wolves? Where are your table manners?"

Hwanwoong winces, his gaze automatically finding Geonhak, who has an expression of barely contained pain contorting his normally stoic face.

"Oh- I didn't-," Geonhak cuts Keonhee's apology off. "It’s ok. For some reason I was kind of expecting it."

"Still, let me apologize," Keonhee insists and Geonhak shrugs, looking back to his already mostly clean plate.

"Apology accepted," Geonhak says lightly, and Keonhee nods.

"Ok... I’m just gonna go grab breakfast," Keonhee says to everyone and no one in particular, and then traipses off to the kitchen. Hwanwoong hears him greet Youngjo, who returns the greeting, and then he hears Youngjo's footsteps get closer.

"Fruit, again?" Hwanwoong says without looking to his side as Youngjo sits down next to him. Youngjo scoffs.

"It’s all I need," Youngjo says, and the feeling of deja-vu washes over him again. He frowns. Youngjo must notice, because he lightly touches Hwanwoong's wrist where it sits on top of the chair's armrest. When Hwanwoong looks over, Youngjo graces him with a soft smile. Hwanwoong melts, just a little, and it must show, because Youngjo smiles more, pats his wrist, and starts in on his fruit.

The rest of breakfast is entirely uneventful, and they all split off to do their own things, like they always do.

From his spot in the empty front ballroom, with the windows open, he watches Geonhak head for the far fields, as he always does. Something about the sight is entirely too familiar, but he shakes it off as being a cause of him always watching Geonhak traipse off like that every day for a... a while, now.

It bothers him, for a second, that he can't really remember for how long, exactly, but that gets shaken off quickly as the sun glints off one of the ballroom's many mirrors, and reminds him of what he'd come here do- what he always came here do. Dance, and wait, and bide his time until twilight.

The time passes uneventfully, mind-numblingly slowly, as it always does. Sometime at about halfway until twilight, he hears the sounds of the others going back to the dining room for their lunch. He thinks about joining them, but decides against it. With how every twilight before has gone, he's sure he'll see them, dejected, but there, at dinner.

He's stopped feeling hope since before Youngjo joined them, dumped here like the rest of them. He wonders what Youngjo did to piss the gods off so badly they'd dump him here, with the likes of people like him and Keonhee. He doesn't know what Keonhee actually did, exactly, to warrant the wrath of the gods, but he knows it weighs on the other heavily.

He wonders, sometimes, in the midst of his dancing, what could be worse than causing an Angel to Fall. All because you- he- was too weak to fend for himself. Too afraid to take what he needed.

The sounds of the others drift away again until he's alone in his thoughts. It stays that way until the light outside dims just so, and he pauses, in the middle of a spin, and tilts his head towards the windows. He leaves them open for a reason.

Taking himself out of spinning position, and crouching down, he waits. The light dims again, and he jumps, utilizing his strength, for once, and landing perfectly, breaking into a sprint. He can hear the others doing the same- Geonhak running from the outer fields, Youngjo and Seoho from the manor, and Keonhee from the servants quarters.

He would be faster, much faster than all of them, but that's the thing about this manor. It's a prison, and it's designed to stop things like him- like them- from escaping, from ever leaving. So he can't sprint like he could if he were... anywhere else really. He's stuck going about as fast as a fast human can, and so are all the rest of them, and they all despise that. It keeps them from ever reaching the edge of the property, which only ever opens just slightly at twilight, and once the moon rises fully, their chance is gone.

He feels the change from sun to moon more than sees it. He stops dead in his tracks, and so do the others. Geonhak and him had stopped at the same time, as they always do, because both of their kinds can sense the Moon Rise, and the others have learned it's just easier to stop when they do. He's not breathing hard, perks of being a vampire, but the others are. Even Geonhak, who takes a lot to tire so thoroughly.

"Ready to go back, everyone?" he asks, and he gets groans from everyone else. "Alright, you absolute children. We'll wait here until you can catch your breaths."

"I," pant, "hate," pant, "you," Seoho says in between his gulps of air, and Hwanwoong just directs a sunny smile his direction.

"Right back at you, Love," Hwanwoong says, and walks over to Youngjo, who's mostly caught his breath now and is trying to even it out with his eyes closed to center him. He looks disappointed, and Hwanwoong fights back the grimace that wants to form on his face.

While he may have given up hope long ago, some, like Seoho and Youngjo, still hope to make it one day, and are always so disappointed when they don't. Youngjo wears the disappointment with grace, and in Seoho, it shows in his unusual lack of appetite. It’s why he's always so hungry every morning. he hates seeing them, especially Youngjo, so disappointed. It’s what he hates most about their daily routine, and it's why he holds Youngjo's hand on the way back, if only to try and cheer the other up, even if only slightly.

They begin the walk back in silence. Hwanwoong lets himself fade into his senses, listening to the four different breaths next to him, the crunch of the gravel under their boots as they walk, the birds singing and flying around them. The water of the fountain as they get closer. 

And- Wait. Is that? He breaks into a run, his fingers slipping from their place in between Youngjo's and the others cry out in confusion, starting to run after him.

There, lying in front of the fountain, is an unconscious boy, who looks to be younger than even Hwanwoong. He's clutching something in his hands. It looks to be glowing, but Hwanwoong shakes his head to himself as the others catch up to him. That can't be right. Gems don't glow- it must just be the flicker of the outside candles on it. But no. It pulses completely out of time with the flames, and Hwanwoong sucks in a breath.

Finally, he brings himself to tear his eyes away from the gem and to the boy's face, and he sucks in another breath on reflex. There's something so familiar about that face, but he can't, for the life of him, place what. For some reason, the bird he'd watched on the way back, flying in lazy, controlled circles above them, flashes in his mind.

"What-," Keonhee starts, voice a petulant squawk before he stops, eyes on the red gem in the boy's hands instantly. "Th-That's a philosopher's stone. He shouldn't have one. He couldn't have made one-"

"Then maybe that's why he's here," Youngjo says pensively.

Seoho walks forward, crouching down next to the boy's body. "Well, he's breathing while unconscious, so, obviously not another vampire."

Hwanwoong snorts, "Thank you for pointing out what all of us have thought as soon as we got close enough."

"Whatever," Seoho says, "I was the only one who said it, so I get points for that." Before anyone can stop him, he pushes his hand forward, pointer finger stretched out and pokes the other boy in the cheek. "He's warm." Seoho comments the same moment the boy's eyes fly open. Hwanwoong registers that the boy's eyes are silver too, just like his hair, almost, before he gets decked in the face with the hand that's not busy trying to hide the Philosopher's Stone.

His head doesn't move an inch of course. If he doesn't want it to, it won't move an inch to such an attack. The other boy lets out a cry of pain and clutches his now sore knuckle to his chest before hurriedly backing up until his back touches the basin of the fountain, and he eyes all of them in fear.

"Who the hell are you?" is the first thing out of the boy's mouth. Seoho lets out a quick laugh before quickly reigning it in.

"Prisoners," Hwanwoong answers simply, "just like you."

"I- what? that can't be right. I was just trying to-," the boy starts, but their shaking heads stop him from finishing his sentence.

"It doesn't matter what you were trying. The gods judged you for it, just like they did to all of us, and now we're here," Youngjo says, and they nod, solemn, more solemn than they were on their way back from yet another failure.

"Why?!" he cries, looking about two seconds away from crying, "Why would they do something like this?!"

"We don't know. We wish we did," Keonhee admits, sighing. "Look, what's your name?" The boy eyes them all wearily and hesitates.

After a long moment, he says, "Dongju."

"Cool," Seoho says, clapping his hands together. "I’m Seoho."

"I’m Keonhee," Keonhee says with a slight wave.

"Geonhak," the shifter says stiffly.

"Youngjo," Youngjo says, clipped, and Hwanwoong sighs.

"You guys are being dumb. He's about as dangerous as Youngjo over there," Hwanwoong says, shaking his head and ignoring Youngjo’s sound of protest. "Anyway, I’m Hwanwoong. A vampire."

Dongju tenses at the mention of his kind, and he sighs, continuing "Hey, I’m not about to drink your blood. I go to Keonhee and sometimes Youngjo for that."

"Look, kid," Seoho says before Dongju gets a chance to respond, "We were on our way back to eat dinner when we found you. Want to come inside and get something to eat?" Again, Dongju eyes them with the same expression, but eventually sighs.

"I might as well," Dongju says, then looks like he wants to say something more, and they wait, before he sighs again and says, "But don't sit me next to the vampire."

Hwanwoong scoffs as he stands. "I can just not attend if you're going to be like that." Youngjo immediately pouts, and Hwanwoong feels himself melting in the same way as this morning.

"But I want you there," Youngjo says, and Hwanwoong sighs. He's done that a lot today.

"Okay, okay, I'll be there," Hwanwoong says, and Seoho frowns at him.

"Why do you always do what Youngjo wants you to?" Seoho says, and then his expression changes, going blank, like he forgot what he was talking about as soon as he’d said it.

"No he doesn't," Geonhak says, but he's frowning, like he's not exactly sure of that.

"Anyway," Keonhee says, clapping his hands together. "dinner, anyone?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- this fic was born at midnight, July 8th, 2019
> 
> \- the original name of this fic was ‘a vampire, seer, demigod, shifter, mage, and alchemist can be a family, right?’
> 
> \- i’m really bad at finishing things so I need fuel! if you read this leave a comment to fuel my past midnight writing binges so i can finish this fic! and have it be my second ever finished multi-chapter/part fic!


	2. twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loop 2+,”!¿5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [spongebob voice] : one year later,,,  
> in this case it has actually been one year wtf. i never forgot about this though, and i fully intend to continue it! this past year has let me work out a bunch of the issues i had with the plot so hopefully the chapters will come much, much sooner from here on out. 
> 
> with all that said, i hope you guys enjoy the chapter! comments keep me coming back and writing, and i love hearing about thoughts and theories you might have about where i'm going with this!

Usually, when everyone goes to sleep, Hwanwoong will do one of two things: go to his room and occupy himself with whatever he can, or lurk around the door to Youngjo’s because, well, he doesn’t really have a concrete reason. He just kind of does.

Tonight, though, because of the new addition whom they know next to nothing about, even after dinner, Hwanwoong is lurking in the hallways, just in case. He did it when Keonhee joined him, when Youngjo followed, when Seoho waltzed in, and when Geonhak eventually stumbled after.

Nothing happens, and nothing happened when all the others joined too, so Hwanwoong doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting by doing this. Besides, even if Dongju were to do something, it’s not like he’d get very far, considering he’s one human vs. many non-humans. Even Youngjo, despite being only a quarter fae, has more strength in his pinky finger than Dongju probably has in his whole body.

Just before dawn, when the others are likely to start waking, Hwanwoong slips quietly back into his room, and busies himself trying to pretend like he’d been reading the whole night. Keonhee sounds to be the first one awake today, which isn’t a surprise- he usually is, considering the ritual he has to do every dawn for the Sun God he has served since he was born. Even though he was imprisoned by said god, Keonhee obstinately refuses to give up the rituals, and Hwanwoong both admires and pities him for his unwavering loyalty to the god that didn’t think twice about placing him here, alongside the likes of Hwanwoong.

Hwanwoong keeps an ear on Keonhee’s soft, lilting voice as he chants in a language Hwanwoong’s never recognized, and an ear on everything else. Geonhak is the second to rise, again, no surprise there- he usually tries to get a run in in the early morning, if only to rid himself of the extra energy he accumulates as a wolf shifter who can’t actually shift while stuck in this miserable place.

Geonhak is already long gone by the time Youngjo rises, dresses quietly, and heads out. By the sound of the direction his footsteps faded into, he’s going to the room he’d set up with a water basin, for his visions.

From the sounds of it Hwanwoong believes Dongju wakes up next, although he ultimately doesn’t rise from his bed.

Seoho is the last to wake, and while he’s getting dressed, Hwanwoong carefully marks his page (the same page he’d started on, he hadn’t even bothered to read any of it, really) and slots his book back in its place on his shelf, and starts getting dressed himself.

Keonhee’s chanting stops as he’s slipping on his shoes, and when he steps out into the hall, Keonhee opens his door. “Morning,” Keonhee says, turning and shutting his door behind him.

“How did it go this morning?” Hwanwoong asks, joining Keonhee in his walk to the dining room.

“About as well as every other time,” Keonhee says, going silent for a moment. Hwanwoong can faintly hear Seoho’s door open and close (he can tell because Seoho’s door is the only one that creaks like that) in the silence that settles, only to be broken when Keonhee continues, “I miss hearing a reply.”

“I’m sorry that your god doesn’t respond to you anymore,” Hwanwoong offers, an apology he’s given many times before, but he lets it out all the same.

And just like every other time, Keonhee replies, “Thank you.” They fall silent again until they reach the kitchen, where they find they’re the first to arrive.

“I guess Geonhak’s still out,” Keonhee comments, and Hwanwoong hums in the affirmative, “but where is Youngjo? I could’ve sworn I heard his footsteps earlier.”

“Sounded like he was going to his other room,” Hwanwoong answers, settling in the same spot as yesterday. Seoho picks that exact moment to walk in.

“What’s up, my fellow degenerates and undesirables?” He says, far too loudly for it to be as early as it is. Hwanwoong may not need to sleep, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be tired of someone else’s shit.

“I’ve just sat down, it’s too soon for you to start,” Hwanwoong tells him, and Seoho laughs.

“Sitting down is such an accomplishment for you, I’m so proud!” Hwanwoong frowns at him, trying to channel all of his current disappointment in the demigod into it. Seoho either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, and flounces into the kitchens. Hwanwoong takes the alone time (despite the fact that he can hear the two in the kitchens bickering and moving about as they fix their respective breakfasts crystal clearly) to let his head drop with a small thunk onto the furnished oak of the table. 

Sometimes, he wishes he could still sleep. Maybe then he would have more energy day to day.

Geonhak strides into the room just as Keonhee walks out of the kitchens, and they share a small greeting before Keonhee moves to sit down, but not before Geonhak steals a sausage off of his plate. Keonhee sniffs dramatically, like he’s affronted, and says, “I didn’t want to eat that one, anyway.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Hwanwoong says, head still on the table, muffling the sound of his voice. Geonhak chuckles before he disappears into the kitchens.

Seoho, who he could hear had been walking towards the dining room, lets out a screech, which is shortly followed by Geonhak’s deep, full-bellied laughter. 

“Hwanwoong! Make this absolute wolf stop stealing meat off of other peoples’ plates!”

“I can’t make him do anything,” Hwanwoong replies as Seoho walks through the door, a look of absolute irritation on his face. “Besides, it’s hilarious to see you get a taste of your own medicine.” Seoho really looks like he wants to disagree as he sits down, even opens his mouth like he intends to, but shuts it and just ends up looking more irritated, because he knows he can’t refute that.

“Who’s getting a taste of their own medicine?” Youngjo asks as he sweeps in, looking frazzled but otherwise perfectly fine. Hwanwoong is glad for that, at the very least.

“Seoho,” Keonhee replies over the rim of his teacup. “It’s rather amusing.”

“Oh! If it’s Seoho I don’t particularly care,” Youngjo says, and Seoho swallows his bite of food just to stick his tongue out at the other. Youngjo crinkles his nose and fake glares back at him before joining Geonhak in the kitchens.

“I resent that!” Seoho calls after him, and then sighs and takes another bite of his breakfast, pouting. “You’d all miss me if I was gone,” Seoho mumbles somewhat bitterly around his mouthful of food. Keonhee throws him another look of mild disgust over the teacup, and then pretends to be looking elsewhere when Seoho slides his gaze over to him.

“Maybe,” Hwanwoong mutters, finally deciding to raise his head, definitely not because he can hear Dongju’s footsteps approaching the dining room and doesn’t want the newest member of their little group to see him with his head on the table, no.

“You would and you know it,” Seoho shoots back, thankfully not around a mouthful of food this time. Geonhak re-enters the dining room and heads to his spot.

“Youngjo tells me it’s Give-Seoho-a-Hard-Time Day, and if so, I have to say, I must be psychic because I contributed before I even realized it was,” he announces, amusement thick in his voice. Hwanwoong allows himself to smirk. “Step it up, people.”

“I hate all of you. Every single one of you,” Seoho spits, glaring at Geonhak with death in his eyes. “Especially you, you overgrown wolf.” Hwanwoong laughs, because it’s Geonhak’s turn to look like he wants to go a round with the other.

“That’s not nice, Seoho! We love you,” Youngjo says as he breezes back in, setting his fruit bowl down and plopping into his seat next to Hwanwoong, somehow looking more frazzled than when he went into the kitchen.

“What’s not nice?” Dongju asks hesitantly from the doorway. He’d been there for about a minute or so now, and Hwanwoong is pretty sure everyone except Keonhee was aware by the way the mage jumps ever so slightly in his seat.

“Seoho called Geonhak an overgrown wolf,” Youngjo helpfully supplies, and Dongju’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“Why would he say that? Geonhak isn’t a wolf,” he announces, and when he’s met with several amused stares, asks, “Right?”

“I’m a shifter, Dongju; my shifted form is a wolf,” Geonhak answers, and Dongju suddenly looks slightly more tense than before. “Gods, kid, who taught you to be afraid of vampires and shifters?”

“My parents,” Dongju says, then swallows and picks the spot as far away from both the big bad wolf and terrifying vampire that he can.

“If it helps, I’m half-fae,” Youngjo tells him, and the other tenses even more. “Fae are literally harmless, Dongju.”

“They steal children,” Dongju stresses and Youngjo’s brow arches.

“Sounds like something a human afraid of something they’d never met would spread to validate their fears,” Youngjo replies dismissively, and Dongju quickly goes quiet. They’re about to continue a normal conversation when Dongju asks, “What are the rest of you, then? Wizards?”

Keonhee snorts, “Close, I’m a Mage. A Sun Mage, to be precise.”

“Are any of you human?” Dongju cries, and Seoho laughs. Keonhee’s hand raises but ultimately does a wiggly motion.

“And you’re fully human?” Seoho asks, like that’s impossible, and they all proceed to give him confused stares when he nods.

“Then how the hell did you end up here?” Hwanwoong finds himself asking. “I thought this was supposed to be a prison for non-humans that spited the gods.”

“I’d rather not say,” Dongju mumbles, and there’s pain there, that fills his eyes and changes the set of his shoulders. There’s something familiar, about the set of his shoulders, now. It’s the same familiarity he’d felt first looking into the other’s face for the first time yesterday. “I am an alchemist, though, if that counts for anything.”

“It could be a factor, definitely,” Youngjo offers, and they fall into silence, the only sound the movement of utensils and cups as they are brought back and forth from the table to mouths. Dongju takes the lull in conversation to escape into the kitchen and come back out with his own plate.

Before he takes his first bite, he asks, with an unreadable expression on his face, “If this is a prison, what did any of you do to end up prisoners, anyway?”

All movement stops. It had been an unspoken rule since Keonhee had joined Hwanwoong that they wouldn’t ask what anyone’s crime was. If they wanted to say it, they would, in their own time. No one had. Hwanwoong had gotten close many times, yes, but he’d never quite been able to get the words out.

“I-,” Youngjo starts, quietly, but Hwanwoong stops him with a gentle brush of his fingers to the Seer’s wrist, “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok,” Youngjo tells him, “I’ve been looking for the right time to tell you all- I’ve been meaning to. I’m ready. Now would be a perfect time to, after all.”

“But-,” this time, Youngjo cuts him off to continue, “Besides, my vision from yesterday said now would be the time.” Hwanwoong stops trying to fight him, because who is he, to argue with a Seer’s vision? He slowly laces his fingers with Youngjo’s in a silent show of support, and Youngjo offers him another one of his soft smiles (that Hwanwoong absolutely melts for) and begins.

* * *

Modern Day Spain  
Year ?+% AD

_Youngjo was scared. In the past few months, he hadn’t had a single vision. Not a one. This sickness that had struck their tribe had completely blindsided him- he felt like he’d failed them._

_“You know that’s not true, Ravn,” his mother whispered softly from her spot the next cot over, gently washing a young boy’s face with melted snow in an attempt to try and bring his fever down. Youngjo was doing the same for the young girl on the cot below._

_“Then why haven’t I had a vision about this?” He whispered back, frowning._

_“Visions are a gift from the forces of fate and time, and happen at their discretion. You having no visions is no fault of your own,” she explained, again. He still felt like a failure._

_His tribe relied on him to warn them of coming dangers and tragedy, and yet nothing he’d been given in his visions as of now had even hinted at something like this befalling the tribe._

_“Some things are just meant to happen,” his mother murmured, reaching over to lay a hand on his. “Don’t blame this on yourself, my child.”_

_“I just feel like I should have been able to do something,” he murmured back. When he looked up into her face, she gave him a tight smile._

_“You are, and you have been. They appreciate it- everything you do for them- they don’t expect you to be perfect.” She told him. “You’re doing all you can and they see that.”_

_“I wish I could do more,” he replied. She sighed, taking her hand away as she returned her attentions back to the young boy at the sound of his groan._

_“Don’t overwork yourself,” she reminded him._

_“I won’t,” he said, knowing it was an empty promise. “I should go look for more herbs.”_

_“Be quick, please,” was her only response before he’d slipped outside. The guards outside merely gave him a nod before continuing on their routes. He slipped into the forest, letting the natural sense for it guide him to the herbs he needed. This was something he’d inherited from his mother, alongside his visions. While she’d never had one, it was a gift many fae and half-fae children had from birth._

_Usually, even in the depths of winter like now, if you knew how to feel it, the forest was rife with sound and life. Tonight, however, it was unsettlingly quiet. Not even a wind to shake the highest branches was blowing._

_(Perhaps this has been a sign for him to turn around and retreat back to the tribe, thinking back on it. But his mind had been focused on the herbs, and what he could do for the sick. So he’d continued.)_

_He’d just knelt in the snow at the base of thicket when he’d heard the telltale crunch of footsteps in the snow approach._

_“Hello there,” a voice spoke, sending chills down his spine. “I’m a little lost. Might I ask directions to the sea?”_

_“You’re very far from it,” Youngjo eventually answered, doing his best to not look up and keep working._

_“Am I? The mountains confuse me,” the voice explained. To him, the voice sounded like an axe on a sharpening stone. It scraped and clawed through the air to reach his ears. He didn’t have to turn to know whatever it was behind him- speaking to him- was not human._

_“They confuse many,” Youngjo returned, trying his best to keep his voice even._

_“I’m glad to have found you, then. What are you doing out in the woods so late?” It asked, and he tensed._

_“Gathering herbs,” he answered, even though he really didn’t want to. “And you?”_

_“Traveling,” it said. It sounded like it was grinning. It was enjoying this. Youngjo couldn’t help the shudder that overtook him. His mind whispered to him, a memory from not so long ago._

_“There are beings in this world that are filled with malice. We call them demons, Youngjo. They aren’t natural; you’ll know when you come across one because they feel wrong, do you understand?” He hadn’t then, but he did now._

_“Travelers usually settle in somewhere for the night. Especially in winter,” he said, his voice starting to shake as his veins start to thrum. He curses his luck. A vision, the first in months, now? Fate must be laughing at him to do this now of all times._

_“I should have known I wouldn’t be able to fool a fae halfbreed,” the thing responded, amusement in his voice. He shivered, focusing as best he could on melting the snow where his hands lay. Water was the best way to induce a vision, and Youngjo couldn’t let it catch him off guard, not now._

_“You wouldn’t even be able to fool a human, demon,” Youngjo hissed as a small pocket of water formed in the snow. One look into it, and whatever the demon said next was lost to him as he was sucked into the vision._

_It was a short one, as they sometimes are, and by the way the demon was still in the midst of a reply told him it had only been a few seconds._

_He’d been shown a grand structure. He didn’t know how else to describe it. And that was it._

_“... would have been able to tell. You, however, halfbreed, could be useful,” the demon said, and when Youngjo finally turned, black spots in his sight from the vision, he was confronted with a Man-but-Not-a-Man._

_“I doubt I’d be useful to you,” Youngjo spit. The thing smiled, showing a set of razor-sharp teeth._

_“Tell me your name, halfbreed, and maybe I won’t kill your tribe.” Youngjo felt his blood run cold._

_“You wouldn’t,” he whispered, not believing it even as he said it._

_“Name,” it demanded, and Youngjo trembled._

_“Ravn,” he spit, and the thing laughed. Black crept in from the corners of his vision, and he started to sway ever so slightly in place._

_“Very good. Now, would you like to do this the easy way or the hard way?” He didn’t get to answer before he pitched forward, and fell into himself._

_When he awoke next, it was to the sound of morning birds chirping._

_“You’re awake? That was fast,” the voice clawed its way through the tranquil silence. “I suppose that’s to be expected from a half-breed, though.”_

_“What did you do to me?” Youngjo gasped, starting to feel the wetness of something covering him. He was scared to look around, so he just kept staring straight up at the sky, lightening each moment as dawn broke over the horizon._

_“Oh, nothing to you,” it replied. It was smirking again. It’s tone gave it away. “I regret what I did to everyone else, though, even if it was necessary. I tried to give them painless, swift deaths, but your mother- she fought back- and so died painfully.”_

_“What did you do?” Youngjo screamed, scrambling up only to be faced with bodies strewn all around him. He couldn’t help the vomit as it rose in his throat._

_“What had to be done. Someday I hope you’ll understand,” a shockwave ripped through the air and ground as it sighed. “It seems that’s my cue to leave. I apologize for what I’ve sentenced you to. If I can, I’ll break you out. You’ve been a great help to me, Youngjo. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”_

_When Youngjo managed to look up again, the demon was gone._

_He was dragged to a stand by someone- something- but his mind was too far gone to comprehend what was going on around him. All he could see was the sun as it rose._

_It was the last he saw as a free man. When he woke up next, he was in a garden, and in the distance, a manor._

* * *

“And then I woke up here, in the gardens. No one was around so I just started walking until Hwanwoong found me, and took me inside to meet Keonhee,” Youngjo finished, voice shaky and weak, matching the trembles Hwanwoong felt from his grip on Youngjo’s hand. Silence fell, and Hwanwoong risked a glance at others seated around the table. Dongju looked stricken, face pale, Keonhee looked much the same, an extra, pained emotion present there too. Seoho looked furious- at who, Hwanwoong couldn’t tell. He just hoped it wasn’t Youngjo. Geonhak looked to be a strange mixture of Seoho and Keonhee, his eyes a molten gold like his wolf’s in his anger.

“They shouldn’t have punished you with this,” Seoho spits, surprisingly the first one to speak. Youngjo’s head turns for his eyes to find Seoho’s so quickly that Hwanwoong is surprised he didn’t hear even a quiet pop. “This is exactly why I wanted to kill my father.”

“What?” Youngjo says, the most eloquent response out of all them to that statement, the rest of them rendered silent at that. Seoho blinks, and looks to immediately want to take it back.

For a moment, it almost looks like he’s about to explain before he swallows and shakes his head. “I’m a demi-god, if you didn’t know.”

“What does that mean?” Dongju asks, the only one of them needing an explanation. 

“My father was a god, making me half-god,” Seoho explains. “Not that he ever deserved that title while I knew him. I’m sure he still doesn’t.”

“Like Jupiter?” Dongju asks. When Seoho can only give him a blank stare, he adds, “God of thunder.”

“That is not what his name is,” Seoho says, “and he’s the god of weather, not just thunder. No gods are given dominion over such a small part of this world.”

“Then what was your father a god of?” Dongju asks, and it almost looks like he doesn’t even want to know the answer. Seoho sighs, grimacing as he remembers what his father was supposed to stand for. 

“Justice and Mercy,” Seoho says, “but I’ve never known a man with less mercy than my father.”

* * *

Modern Day England  
*2* AD

_Seoho had grown up watching his father- he was the only parent he’d ever actually had to watch. His mother had died when he was still a baby, he didn’t remember her. He only knew she’d been human, and his father had loved her just enough to bother with raising their child (sometimes). Over the years, his father had left him in different villages when he was too busy to really raise a child, so he’d grown up around others as well- which is how he knew his father lacked the empathy for mortals needed to have the title ‘God of Mercy’._

_He watched his father condemn a young, impoverished couple to lose their youngest son, for attempting to steal food, that going without, would have killed the very same child his father was taking away from them._

_“It’s the balanced thing to do,” his father had said, after, and Seoho had barely restrained himself from saying,_ ‘But was it the merciful thing to do?’ __

_That was the first incident that really stuck out in Seoho’s mind, and as time continued on, the number of incidents, and the cruelty of them, grew._

_The next incident involved a man who had killed another because the dead man had tried assaulting his wife. His father hadn’t even thought about it before saying, “Kill him. A life for a life.” Seoho wanted to scream, yell at his father, but he stayed quiet, like his father had taught him to do in his rulings._

_During the execution, he’d held the soon-to-be widow’s hand, and tried to convince her, convince himself, that she’d be ok. He convinced his father to leave him in that very same village while he went to attend his godly business, and stayed with the widow to make sure she’d be alright. His father came back just after she’d gotten remarried, to a woman he was sure would take care of her._

_The next incident was a man who had murdered the man who killed his son. The son, Seoho had learned as he lurked around the town, had been an evil man, content with stealing what was not his, and assaulting any woman he wanted, without punishment, because his grandfather was the town’s judge. His father, not even bothering to learn all of this about the son, decreed, “Let him free, he took a life for a life, and balanced it.”_

_“But-,” Seoho blurted, not able to catch himself in time, trembling in rage. His father whirled on him, instantly furious Seoho had even tried challenging him._

_“But what, Seoho? What do you know of balance? You’re half-human, be grateful I even let you be present in these matters,” that was the first time Seoho had truly been afraid of what his father had become, trembling with his own rage and spitting right up in Seoho’s face._

_The next period of his father being gone lasted much longer, no doubt his father’s attempt at punishing him. When he returned, Seoho learned he had finished a war between two civilizations down south by making the losing ones slaves to the other._

_After that, Seoho refused to go anywhere with his father. Seoho had thought his father would get angry, yell and try to keep Seoho with him. Instead, the god had barely blinked, turned, and walked away. And then, Seoho was left on his own in a town he'd only passed through once or twice, no money or possessions to his name besides what he had in his bag (which was hardly anything, Seoho had always left as much as he could behind, never sure where he was going or if he would ever return to the places he had been). He could always set out, in the opposite direction, and go back to the widow he'd stayed with- she'd told him he was always welcome in her home, for as long as she lived- but no, he couldn't do that._

_So, he decided to stay. It was hard, at first, working the odd jobs that the town's different makers and businesses needed done, making just enough to pay for his inn room every week. Eventually, the owner of the one book store in town took pity on him, and invited him into his home. He had a wife, and two children, a boy and a girl, the boy just older than him, and the girl just younger. For the better part of a year, he worked in the shop with them, and, in return for his work, the owner taught him how to read and write._

_Almost a year after Seoho's father had left, he was back in town. Seoho avoided him, unsure as to why he was back. He had yet to seek Seoho out, so Seoho assumed that was not the reason he'd suddenly appeared back in the town. The only other reason he would lurk around a town was if there was a balance to be had, a crime that had been committed that had yet to be judged. However, no crime had ever happened, at least, in the time Seoho had been there. The only times Seoho could ever remember his father being early to a Balancing was when something significant would happen- something so significant that whatever lead him to those crimes demanded he be there as soon as possible after it had happened._

_That night, the owner's daughter was sent to deliver the inn's new record book, but she didn't come back in the time she usually did, when she was sent to do that specific task. Before Seoho could, the owner's son offered to go and check. Seoho had a bad feeling about it, but wasn't quite sure why, so he shook the feeling off. Until it came back, much stronger than the last time, and Seoho just knew something had to be wrong. He took off into the night, not sparing the shouting couple a second glance as he sprinted towards the inn. When Seoho opened the door, he was greeted with the sight of red blood, spattered on the inn's furniture surrounding the entrance to the stairs. The owner's daughter met his eyes when he looked at her, and he realized her dress was ripped down the middle, as if someone had been- and Seoho understood, as he looked to the owner's son, who looked back at him with wide, terrified eyes. Seoho looked back to the daughter and she nodded, motioning with a jerk of her chin to the body on the floor in front of her._

_There, the body of a rough traveler was found, looking like he'd been hit very hard in the hit with something blunt. Seoho looked back to the son, and knew why his father was here. It would only be moments before his father swept in to dispense "justice", with how early he'd arrived to the scene of the crime- a crime that had a few days yet to happen, and knew what he had to do. Seoho pressed his finger to his lips as he picked up the blood spattered chair leg from the ground by the body, and stood just next to the door as heavy, purposeful footsteps got closer. The door opened, and just as he knew it would, the opened door concealed Seoho._

_"Well well well," Seoho's father began, and Seoho just knew he was smiling, by that tone. "What do we have here, more human cruelty?" Seoho barely restrained the growl that bubbled from his throat at those words. His father was always so quick to judge a situation before he'd heard anything, known the circumstances, always so biased against humans. "For this crime, I sentence you to death, by blunt force. Feel what the person you killed felt."_

_"I don't think so," Seoho growled, rushing from his hiding place. His father turned and, for the first time, looked at Seoho with something other than disdain, anger, or neutrality. He looked astonished. And then, his expression crumbled into pain as Seoho brought the chair leg down, and the crack sound that followed reverberated throughout the room. Seoho breathed heavily as his father crumpled to the floor and didn't move as gold blood spilled across the floor, bleeding into the red of the human's. All was quiet for a moment, and then, in the space between one blink and the next, Seoho was kneeling on a hard, cold marble floor._

_"What do you have to say for yourself?" A cruel voice said, and suddenly, Seoho was looking into the eyes of another god. They kicked him in the face for that, and he struggled to breathe for a moment, coughing as the voice came back, annoyed this time. "Well?"_

_"He was no Justice Bringer anymore. I did the world a kindness." Seoho growled, and for that, he was kicked again. He blinked back the spots in his vision, and pointedly looked at the floor._

_"He'll be back, child. You didn't know a god can't be killed unless it is by another god, did you?" The voice sneered and Seoho whipped his head up to meet their eyes again._

_"He's not dead?" Seoho whispered, stricken, and the god snickered._

_"No, he'll be back before you're even locked away," they told him, and kicked him again. Seoho remained stock still, then looked to his sides, where it seemed all the other gods were gathered, looking on- some just as angry as the god interrogating him, some apathetic and looking on with nary an expression on their faces, making it look like they were statues- and not the gods they were._

_"Who would be willing to kill him for me?" Seoho shouted, "I will do anything, anything for you, no questions asked, for the rest of eternity if you do," he announced, and that only served to make the angry gods angrier. The apathetic ones didn't move, didn't even blink._

_"For this, god-child, you will be punished. Put him in Twilight." The god in front of him raged, and again, in the space between one blink and the next, he was suddenly in a mansion. He didn't move not, until he is found by a golden vampire, who smiles wearily and invites him to dinner where he meets two others. They don't ask what happened to him, and he doesn't ask what happened to them. He grows to like living in the mansion, and wonders from time to time if he truly saved the owner's son. He doesn't wonder anymore when Youngjo pulls him aside and simply says, "He named his first son after you."_

* * *

"Oh shit," Geonhak mumbles, and immediately gets elbowed in the side by Keonhee. Seoho laughs. "I've gotten over it, really, there's no need to go all silent on me."  
"At least I'm not the only one with daddy issues," Hwanwoong says, and Seoho laughs again.

"I doubt you had it worse than me, though," Seoho says, and Hwanwoong just stares at him drolly and says, "My father sold me into slavery for his next hit of fliora."

"I-," Seoho starts, pauses, looks down at his hands, and then back up at Hwanwoong, "I don't know what to say to that except you have me beat there."

“What’s fliora?” Dongju asks from the corner, and, surprisingly, meets Hwanwoong’s gaze head on.

“It’s a drug,” Hwanwoong answers back, waving a hand dismissively.

"Anyone else want to reveal their sob stories today?" Keonhee asks, over his cup of tea, and everyone else (read : Hwanwoong, Geonhak, and Dongju) shakes their head. Keonhee laughs, a short, tight sound. "Me neither. Let's just try to have a normal day for the rest of today. We'll wait until someone else is ready to hear another one, and check back in tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

There’s a chorus of agreement, and then, they all break away to their separate activities, just like usual.

Hwanwoong is the last to wander off, since he likes to make sure no one is left at the breakfast table, when he feels a hand on his arm stop him.

“Where did they all go? Where are you going?” Dongju asks, and Hwanwoong turns to look at him. He tries to judge if there’s any malicious motives behind the comment, but can’t find anything except genuine confusion in the lost expression on his face.

“Usually we all do something different to occupy us,” Hwanwoong explains, “You can explore and figure out what everyone’s doing if you want, no one will stop you.”

“So... you really just live out the rest of your days here?” Dongju asks, and all Hwanwoong can do is nod.

“Well, we do try to escape, but we’ve never come close,” Hwanwoong says. “You’ll see what I mean by that tonight.”

“What’s tonight?” Dongju asks. Hwanwoong hums.

"The same as every other night," Hwanwoong teases, “Twilight.”

* * *

“Hwanwoong! Hwanwoong!” Dongju calls from the hallway, a little ways down from the ballroom. He had, of course, been listening to Dongju’s run through the manor since he’d yelped in fright from about where Youngjo was, and had a good idea of what he’d seen.

“In here!” He calls when he’s sure Dongju should be able to hear him. Dongju heads right for the ballroom.

“Hwanwoong! Youngjo-,” he starts as soon as he breaches the doorway.

“Yes, that’s normal for him,” Hwanwoong laughs, “when he gets visions that’s what he looks like. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong or that he’s evil or something to be afraid of.”

“Oh,” Dongju says. “Should I... go apologize?” Hwanwoong laughs a little bit as he shakes his head again.

“You’ll have a chance to at lunch, which should be soon,” Hwanwoong tells him. “You’re fine, the others had never seen a Seer mid-vision before either, and they had much the same reaction.”

“So, uh, since I’m here, what do you usually do?” Dongju asked, and Hwanwoong laughed.

“It depends. Sometimes I wander, sometimes I dance in here, sometimes I read, whatever I feel like. It was very lonely and empty when it was just me,” Hwanwoong explained, a small frown settling on his face.

“How- how long have you been here for?” Dongju asked, and Hwanwoong shrugged.

“I’m not sure, but I’ve been here the longest,” he eventually answered.

“That’s... a long time,” Dongju said, softly. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”

“You will, if we never escape. Geonhak has lived far past when he should have. This place, it keeps you just the same as when you got here,” Hwanwoong promised.

“I- So I won’t age? Or die?” Dongju asked, a bit too hopeful for Hwanwoong’s liking.

“Why does it sound like you like that idea?” Hwanwoong asked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“Because, even if it takes us centuries, maybe we will eventually escape,” Dongju murmured, and then, in a softer voice, “Maybe I could help.”

Hwanwoong wanted to disagree, but found he couldn’t. Anything was possible, he’d long since realized, so instead, he just shook his head and smiled. “Perhaps,” he relented. “Now go join the others for lunch. They’re already in the dining room.”

“And, uh, how do I get there from here?”

* * *

“What,” pant, “the,” pant, “hell”, wheeze, “was,” cough, “that?!” Dongju finally bit out. Hwanwoong tried not to laugh and was pretty proud of himself when he only giggled a little bit. Youngjo managed to elbow him in the side even doubled over doing the same thing Dongju was.

“Twilight,” Hwanwoong replied.

“Yes I am aware that the sun was going down,” Dongju retorted. Keonhee got to explaining it before he could.

“No you idiot, twilight is important because that’s when this prison weakens enough to even allow us to get this far,” Keonhee said, impressively altogether despite still catching his breath.

“That’s incredibly dumb,” Dongju said, sniffing, and then turned and started walking back towards the house.

“Who’s going to tell him we know how dumb it is,” Seoho said, deadpan. Needless to say, no one volunteered. He would just have to learn like everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs I recommend listening to for each character and their stories :
> 
> \- seoho : you’re somebody else - flora cash
> 
> \- ravn : Nature - Bassline Drift
> 
> \- all : We Never Asked For This - Crywolf


	3. twilight (remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **THERE IS NO YESTERDAY, ONLY TODAY**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, you're not having deja-vu. i promise this is intentional. read all the way through it, everything will make sense near the end of the chapter!

Usually, when everyone goes to sleep, Hwanwoong will do one or two things: go to his room and occupy himself with whatever he can, or lurk around the door to Youngjo’s because, well, he doesn’t really have a concrete reason. He just kind of does. 

Tonight, though, because of the new addition whom they know next to nothing about, even after dinner, Hwanwoong is lurking in the hallways, just in case. He did it when Keonhee joined him, when Youngjo followed, when Seoho waltzed in, and when Geonhak eventually stumbled after. 

Nothing happens, and nothing happened when all the others joined too, so Hwanwoong doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting by doing this. Besides, even if Dongju were to do something, it’s not like he’d get very far, considering he’s one human vs. many non-humans. Even Youngjo, despite being only a quarter fae, has more strength in his pinky finger than Dongju probably has in his whole body. 

Just before dawn, when the others are likely to start waking, Hwanwoong slips quietly back into his room, and busies himself trying to pretend like he’d been reading the whole night. Keonhee sounds to be the first one awake today, which isn’t a surprise- he usually is, considering the ritual he has to do every dawn for the Sun God he has served since he was born. Even though he was imprisoned by said god, Keonhee obstinately refuses to give up the rituals, and Hwanwoong both admires and pities him for his unwavering loyalty to the god that didn’t think twice about placing him here, alongside the likes of Hwanwoong. 

Hwanwoong keeps an ear on Keonhee’s soft, lilting voice as he chants in a language Hwanwoong’s never recognized, and an ear on everything else. Geonhak is the second to rise, again, no surprise there- he usually tries to get a run in in the early morning, if only to rid himself of the extra energy he accumulates as a wolf shifter who can’t actually shift while stuck in this miserable place. 

Geonhak is already long gone by the time Youngjo rises, dresses quietly, and heads out. By the sound of the direction his footsteps faded into, he’s going to the room he’d set up with a water basin, for his visions.

Dongju sounds to wake up next, shuffling too energetically in his bed to be readjusting his position in sleep, but doesn’t rise from the bed. 

Seoho is the last to wake, and while he’s getting dressed, Hwanwoong carefully marks his page (the same page he’d started on, he hadn’t even bothered to read any of it, really) and slots his book back in it’s place on his shelf, and starts getting dressed himself.

Keonhee’s chanting stops as he’s slipping on his shoes, and when he steps out into the hall, Keonhee opens his door. “Good morning,” Keonhee says, turning and shutting his door behind him.

“How did it go this morning?” Hwanwoong asks, joining Keonhee in his walk to the dining room. 

“About as well as every time before,” Keonhee says, going silent for a moment. Hwanwoong faintly hears Seoho’s door open and close (he can tell because Seoho’s door is the only one that creaks like that) in the silence that settles, only to be broken when Keonhee continues, “I miss hearing a reply.”

“I’m sorry that your god doesn’t respond to you anymore,” Hwanwoong offers, an apology he’s given many times before, but he lets it out all the same. 

And just like every other time, Keonhee replies, “Thank you.” They fall silent again until they reach the kitchen, where they find they’re the first to arrive. 

“I guess Geonhak’s still on his run,” Keonhee comments, and Hwanwoong hums in the affirmative, “but where is Youngjo? I could’ve sworn I heard his footsteps earlier.” 

“Sounded like he was going to his other room,” Hwanwoong answers, settling in the same spot as yesterday. Seoho picks that exact moment to walk in. 

“What’s up, my fellow degenerates and undesirables?” He says, far too loudly for it to be as early as it is. Hwanwoong may not need to sleep, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be tired of someone else’s shit. Especially when it’s being repeated. 

“I’ve just sat down, it’s-,” Hwanwoong stops, a frown forming on his face as his brain struggles to catch up with that last thought. “It’s what?” Seoho asks, waiting for him to go on. “Didn’t you say that yesterday?”

* * *

Usually, when everyone goes to sleep, Hwanwoong will do one or two things: go to his room and occupy himself with whatever he can, or lurk around the door to Youngjo’s because, well, he doesn’t really have a concrete reason. He just kind of does. 

Tonight, though, because of the new addition whom they know next to nothing about, even after dinner, Hwanwoong is lurking in the hallways, just in case. He did it when Keonhee joined him, when Youngjo followed, when Seoho waltzed in, and when Geonhak eventually stumbled after. 

Nothing happens, and nothing happened when all the others joined too, so Hwanwoong doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting by doing this. Besides, even if Dongju were to do something, it’s not like he’d get very far, considering he’s one human vs. many non-humans. Even Youngjo, despite being only a quarter fae, has more strength in his pinky finger than Dongju probably has in his whole body. 

Just before dawn, when the others are likely to start waking, Hwanwoong slips quietly back into his room, and busies himself trying to pretend like he’d been reading the whole night. Keonhee sounds to be the first one awake today, which isn’t a surprise- he usually is, considering the ritual he has to do every dawn for the Sun God he has served since he was born. Even though he was imprisoned by said god, Keonhee obstinately refuses to give up the rituals, and Hwanwoong both admires and pities him for his unwavering loyalty to the god that didn’t think twice about placing him here, alongside the likes of Hwanwoong. 

Hwanwoong keeps an ear on Keonhee’s soft, lilting voice as he chants in a language Hwanwoong’s never recognized, and an ear on everything else. Geonhak is the second to rise, again, no surprise there- he usually tries to get a run in in the early morning, if only to rid himself of the extra energy he accumulates as a wolf shifter who can’t actually shift while stuck in this miserable place. 

Geonhak is already long gone by the time Youngjo rises, dresses quietly, and heads out. By the sound of the direction his footsteps faded into, he’s going to the room he’d set up with a water basin, for his visions.

Dongju sounds to wake up next, shuffling too energetically in his bed to be readjusting his position in sleep, but doesn’t rise from the bed. 

Seoho is the last to wake, and while he’s getting dressed, Hwanwoong carefully marks his page (the same page he’d started on, he hadn’t even bothered to read any of it, really) and slots his book back in it’s place on his shelf, and starts getting dressed himself. The past few minutes feel very familiar. It really is starting to wear on him, this prison, if it hadn’t been before. 

Keonhee’s chanting stops as he’s slipping on his shoes, and when he steps out into the hall, Keonhee opens his door. “Good morning,” Keonhee says, turning and shutting his door behind him.

“How did it go today?” Hwanwoong asks, joining Keonhee in his walk to the dining room. 

“Nearly as well as every time before,” Keonhee says, going silent for a moment. Hwanwoong faintly hears Seoho’s door open and close (he can tell because Seoho’s door is the only one that creaks like that) in the silence that settles, only to be broken when Keonhee continues, “I miss hearing a reply.”

“I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong offers, an apology he’s given many times before, but he lets it out all the same. 

And just like every other time, Keonhee replies, “Thanks.” They fall silent again until they reach the kitchen, where they find they’re the first to arrive. 

“I guess Geonhak’s still out on his run,” Keonhee comments, and Hwanwoong hums in the affirmative, trying to shake the deja-vu this morning seems to be throwing at him with each moment, “but where is Youngjo? I could’ve sworn I heard his footsteps earlier.” 

“Sounded like he was going to his vision room,” Hwanwoong answers, settling in the same spot as yesterday. Seoho walks in, and Hwanwoong can’t help but feel surprised. Wasn’t he wearing that outfit yesterday? 

“What’s up, my fellow supernatural criminals and undesirables?” He says, just as loudly as... before. Before?

“Didn’t you wear that and say that yesterday?”

* * *

Usually, when everyone goes to sleep, Hwanwoong will do one or two things: go to his room and occupy himself with whatever he can, or lurk around the door to Youngjo’s because, well, he doesn’t really have a concrete reason. He just kind of does. 

Tonight, though, because of the new addition whom they know next to nothing about, even after dinner, Hwanwoong is lurking in the hallways, just in case. He did it when Keonhee joined him, when Youngjo followed, when Seoho waltzed in, and when Geonhak eventually stumbled after. 

Nothing happens, just like last night. Last night? Dongju wasn’t even here last night. He shakes it off.

Just before dawn, when the others are likely to start waking, Hwanwoong slips quietly back into his room, and busies himself trying to pretend like he’d been reading the whole night. The book he picks out feels too familiar in his hands despite not touching any of the books in his room in years. He’s thinking Keonhee will be up first, just like the past few days, then Geonhak, then Youngjo, Dongju, and finally Seoho. It doesn’t really feel like a guess though. More like he knows.

Hwanwoong keeps an ear on Keonhee’s soft, lilting voice as he chants in a language Hwanwoong’s never recognized, and an ear on everything else. Geonhak is actually the second to rise, gone by the time Youngjo wakes up, the third to do so.

Dongju wakes up, but doesn’t get up from his bed. 

Seoho is the last to wake, and while he’s getting dressed, it hits Hwanwoong that he’d been right.

Keonhee’s chanting stops (right on cue, his mind whispers) as he’s slipping on his shoes, and when he steps out into the hall, Keonhee opens his door. “Blessed morning,” Keonhee says, turning and shutting his door behind him.

“How did your ritual go this sunrise?” Hwanwoong asks, joining Keonhee in his walk to the dining room. 

“Nearly the same as since I’ve been here,” Keonhee says, going silent for a moment. Hwanwoong faintly hears Seoho’s door open and close (he can tell because Seoho’s door is the only one that creaks like that) in the silence that settles, only to be broken when Keonhee continues, “I miss hearing a reply.”

“I’m sorry that the Sun God doesn’t respond to you anymore,” Hwanwoong offers, an apology he’s given before. In this same conversation. 

And in the same exact tone as before, Keonhee replies, “Thank you.”

“Haven’t we had this conversation before?”

* * *

Usually, when everyone goes to sleep, Hwanwoong will do one or two things: go to his room and occupy himself with whatever he can, or lurk around the door to Youngjo’s because, well, he doesn’t really have a concrete reason. He just kind of does. 

Tonight, though, because of the new addition whom they know next to nothing about, even after dinner, Hwanwoong is lurking in the hallways, just in case. He did it when Keonhee joined him, when Youngjo followed, when Seoho waltzed in, and when Geonhak eventually stumbled after. He’s done it the past few years. What?

Just before dawn, when the others are likely to start waking, Hwanwoong slips quietly back into his room, and busies himself trying to pretend like he’d been reading the whole night. He picks a different book than all the times before. This is his first time doing this.

Keonhee wales up first. Right on time, a small thought choruses. He ignores it. Of course it is, Keonhee must always wake up first.

Hwanwoong keeps an ear on Keonhee’s soft, lilting voice as he chants in a language Hwanwoong’s never recognized, and an ear on everything else. Right on time, his mind whispers every time someone gets up, everyone else gets up too.

Didn’t they do that yesterday?

* * *

**THERE IS NO YESTERDAY, ONLY TODAY.**

* * *

They all walk out into the hall at the same time.

“We’re in a time loop,” Hwanwoong whispers. The others look at him with fearful eyes.

* * *

“We’re in a time loop,” Hwanwoong whispers. 

“Did the start point change?” Youngjo mutters.

* * *

“-loop,” Hwanwoong whispers.

“The start point changed,” Dongju confirmed.

“How long have we really been here then?”

* * *

“How long have we really been here then?”

No one had an answer to that.

Everyone waited for the loop to restart.

And waited. And waited. And then, it was noon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter and premise was inspired by the infamous endless eight of the melancholy of haruhi suzumiya, and, if you managed to read it all (again, i know, i'm sorry) and caught on to what i was doing, congrats!


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